


Like Bow Set to String

by Ukthxbye



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Post-Episode: The Abominable Bride, Prompt Fic, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, female hysteria mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25519411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ukthxbye/pseuds/Ukthxbye
Summary: After an encounter at the park, Sherlock Holmes asks Miss Hooper to visit him. Confessions and new negotiations of their relationship fall into place.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 12
Kudos: 95





	Like Bow Set to String

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MizJoely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/gifts).



The air of 221b wafted with lingering pipe smoke, pale and faint from its smoulder in his still hand. He'd refrained from another vice from some time. Urgent and incessant admonishment from Hooper soon repeated by both members of the Watson family too much to bear. So they must endure more pipe smoking as a consequence, he thought.

But today of all days Sherlock Holmes found even it unsatisfactory to mollify this urge present in his conscious musings. The afternoon paper sat heavy in his hand, as his eyes read over the same paragraph twice before he tossed it aside. 

He'd requested Miss Hooper to visit. But his mind sought many outcomes to his call. He hoped for her to reject the invitation. She'd answered promptly that she accepted, leaving him to chart an alternative course. Their shared interests, and her keen mind prompted new musings he assumed below him. 

Her eyes, deep brown in candlelight, turned golden in the sun when they unexpectedly crossed paths yesterday. Her skin like cream as he listened to her relay a recent case that might interest him. But more notably, his fingers recalled her trembling when he plucked her out of the path of a wayward bicycle rider. He'd intended to give the young man the what for due to his reckless behaviour, but found himself utterly unable to speak. His stare and hers matched for a flash of breathless disorientation when she released her gaze to his hand on her arm. Only then his awareness of the nearness of her side pressed into him. He dropped his grip. But not without a perfect memory of her shuddering under his fingertips. 

He wished these reflections only a sign of his mind recording information of a neutral nature. Yet his senses told him otherwise. Logic dictated her tremor produced from escaping certain harm. And that surface truth remained. But he was no fool. Her tremble came from an intimacy previously unknown to them both. 

Watson’s consultation a consideration, but his expertise hardly worth the vexation of incessant questioning and mild teasing. He'd tell Mary and the interference in which would follow unbearable. Better they know only once it settles the matter, both in his mind and with Miss Hooper.

He shifted his smoking jacket as the familiar voices downstairs of Mrs Hudson advising she could go up travelled to his ears, setting him on alert. He picked up the pipe but then set it down again and then back once again. 

Quiet and unsure in her steps, she entered 221b. What did he require now, she'd pondered after she sent her affirmative to his invitation? In most cases, he met her at the morgue. All parties involved agreed to preserve her identity in confidence. Holmes remained as prickly and short as usual with her as Hooper, and it soothed her of any apprehensions.

But at the park, she encountered a gentleman in Holmes she'd not seen. It was a chance meeting on her day off, taking a turn to get air and sun. And he'd wrapped up a case, sharing details. It would have been like any of their meetings previous in their words, but in his eyes, she couldn't reconcile the difference. When he pulled her to him, tightly to avoid injury to her, he revealed himself and confirmed her feelings on the matter. She loved him despite all logic, otherwise she'd wrestled within her. But the Holmes she expected would have dropped her arm and spoke to the bicyclist. But he entirely kept the grip much too long. Her trembling overcoming her as he supported her at his side.

They'd both gave their excuses, him less eloquently. She was not a woman given to fancy, but he was a man who made no mistakes. And she was here to receive the answers she knew already to questions unasked.

She entered, soft steps, smoothing her skirt in reflex. He sat feigning disinterest in her entering, but his legs tense. She noted and decided she'd been correct to accept his invitation.

He took a breath and let his gaze fall on her figure. Now at an in-between lightning, he studied her once more. No more bright sun to blind or candlelight to dim. The soft light through the half opened curtains illuminated her dark blue dress and chestnut hair shining. Her eyes dark brown once again and steady. Her hands clasped together in front of her and he dropped his stare.

"Good afternoon, Mr Holmes."

"Please sit, Miss Hooper. On the sofa, if you would like," he said, his voice more gentle than he expected. 

Silence except for the shush of the fabric as she sat and silence again followed.

Words shouldn't be so difficult for him, she thought. He's had many to say to her on more than one occasion. 

But yet he remained quiet beyond the point of proprietary. She cleared her throat, "I hope you are… well?"

He smiled. A faint and affected one. "Yes… and you?"

She nodded her chin into her chest, but lifted her gaze back to him to read his face. She noted the tightened jaw muscles. "Yes.. I am well."

He cut his eyes at her but her stare overwhelming enough he needed evidence of its mysterious power over his senses. Or the fact that somehow across the room his nose latched onto the perfume as the summer heat lifted into the air.. 

They both turned their stares away.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched her run her thumb and forefinger along the knuckles of her other hand, an odd nervous massage. He imagined the calluses worn from her occupation and their texture. Then he found his words.

"May I be frank with you, Miss Hooper?"

"Taciturn is not of your nature. Please proceed, it will not offend me." She waved her hand and returned it to her lap.

He stood and paced from Watson's chair to his in an uneven pattern, arms folded behind his back."No, you will not. I quite admire this trait… greatly."

Molly cocked her head to the side. " If you know no offense will be taken please proceed." 

"You are not married."

She sighed, anticipating the rest of the conversation. Perhaps it was the heat that spurred her irritation but if he could be frank so could she. 

"Brilliant deduction, Holmes."

He paused his pace and turned to her. She realised too late her sarcasm might offend but before she could apologise his smile assured her.

He stepped to her and sat a reasonable distance from her on the sofa, studying her reaction.

"I meant it more in a pondering sort of manner. Why would a brilliant woman as yourself be unwed in such times?"

Mixed emotions flooded her brain. Truly, this was a conversation for intimate friendship. Perhaps they did have such, and the thought thrilled her. But his purpose was still guarded and so she must remain so, she reminded herself.

" It is a personal question. I imagine much of it has to do with my covert work. And my studies, it does not lend much time to the pursuit of romance. And my connections are limited as well."

He nodded," Yes… but marriage does not have to be achieved in the pursuit of romance. Often that appears to cause more distress than worth the effort."

She entreated, "Perhaps in your scope of experience, but you are subject to many of the crimes that may come from it. It is not the majority of experiences; you let the minority rule your assumptions."

He frowned, but not at her. She was correct once again, and it secretly delighted him, a warm feeling growing in his chest.

"Do tell me Miss Hooper, perhaps you cannot find at least someone of like mind? A companion if not someone you can feel romantic inclinations to."

The conversation appeared academic to her but something in his tone shifted. But her irritation remained intact. 

"Marriage is more than mere friendship and like-mindedness," she sighed.

"Hmm… but I understand it to be optimal."

"Then you should marry Dr Watson, if that is your only requirement."

"Fascinating but he's already married. Pray tell then what else do you require then."

"You cannot play as if you are a fool with me."

"I'm not—"

"Yes you are. A marriage can be merely contractual, many of our age are such. But it is not my wish nor desire. I have no funds in which I could tempt a man to such for, at any matter."

"I have no desire for monetary gain, I am sufficient without assistance from you. If friendship and like mind are still optimal, we match this criteria in exemplary ways. Do speak freely about what you seek instead."

Her breath caught at the word 'you.’

"Mr Holmes, what are you imply—"

He said lowering his voice, "Sherlock… please. You may call me such."

Her brow knitted, and he continued his appeal. 

"Please speak your mind… I always wish such from you." He didn't quite know himself in this moment, but the honesty freed him in an odd way. He wanted to identify her like ash, cataloguing every thought and hope. But he still felt his own words insufficient. How convenient if he could produce a confession of her affection, something he'd already observed in her. Eyes do not lie, not that she did, but she could conceal as well as him at moments. 

"I will not until you do first."

His breath caught now, eyes slant in confusion. 

"Now you confound me." He'd expected her to pick up on the nature of their conversation. Her voice, her hands and her breath gave her away. Yet she refused. 

"I do not." She straightened her spine. 

He snickered, "Now I don't even know my own thoughts that you must inform me of them?"

"I only wish you to speak to them freely. After all, if this is to be a marriage—"

"Oh now we are to be wed then?"

"You are the one that suggested such."

He paused, sitting back, searching across his mind for his slip. She waited, unblinking. When he discovered it he gulped. 

"Perhaps I meant—"

She shook her head, closing her eyes, fighting a pang behind them. "Speak your thoughts, sir, or be done with this."

He stared at her. "Tell me my opinions instead, I fear I do not know myself at this minute."

"No Sherlock, I will not." She'd said his name. Something timid on the surface exposed the edge he'd caught her use to an advantage as Hooper. Now he knew it was her wholly. 

"Why does it matter if you do?"

"You know why it matters. You do it so frequently to me. And others. But today, this day of reckoning of our understanding, you will speak or I will leave."

He scoffed. "Surely—"

She rose.

"No! Please… please don't. I'll speak my mind but I must ask one more thing," he pleaded looking up at her, holding her stare. 

She sat, but her gaze shifted up to find him altering his seat close to her. Her breath rested like a pebble in her throat as he faced her so near his knee brushed hers.

He whispered, swallowing down the knot in his throat, "Permit me your hand."

She murmured, "Sherlock…"

"I ask for it literally. Give me your hand… please."

He held his out open, and she placed her own lightly upon it. So much smaller that his even if not delicate, and the sensation overwhelmed him. He sealed his eyes for a moment then opening them upon returning his gaze at her. 

"There it is," he hesitated, taking a hollow breath. "There's that tremble, I felt it yesterday. It whispered of a silent overture, and the rest of your body followed—"

"That's about my—"

"Shh... let me speak if that is what you requested."

His voice deepened and softened. She quivered with the shift, aware of the warmth rising between their palms. Something in its tone more intimate than she could have visualised. Her eyes drifted to his lips as he spoke. 

"Awareness of my physical being is an annoyance in most instances," he smiled just at the corner of his mouth. "But useful in the research and knowledge in the reactions of others. But I became even against my own will acutely cognisant of your nearness and what it produced even in me… Perhaps this is the other part of marriage you desire?" 

She took a deep breath, answering him quietly, " Yes? Though expecting that you would converse on the matters, that being affections of a romantic nature... but yes… the presence of those are the only reason I will consider marriage. I am a modern woman, but there are conventions that cannot be ignored."

"Then perhaps this will allay you even as much as I am practiced in the ideation. Stirred by emotions unrehearsed," he exhaled and began to trace his finger forefinger along the lines in her palm. "But they respond in both a physical and chemical sense… even as you blush before me," he uttered as he peered up, capturing her eyes. 

Molly held her breath and his stare. 

" I do love you Molly, foremost your mind… but beyond that I hope to be your husband, to be known to you in a complete sense. I can convey in less delicate terms if I am not making myself clear."

She licked her lips but smiled as she bit her lower lip. "I think you make yourself clear. My desires match yours. When you pull me to your side, I could no longer deny the attraction."

He chuckled, his nerves calming at her affirmation, and she matched him. It delighted him, so he slid his hand under hers and brought her palm to his lips, offering it a chase kiss. 

But he lingered, soaking in a foreign sensation. Her tremble resonated through him and he counted the heaves her chest made in response. What a brilliant novel study, and he yearned to further his experimentation. Affection shown in a physical sense once he considered base now proposed. He'd been obtuse. Every chemical firing in his body awake and strange. 

"Perhaps we should kiss to establish the proposal? I assume that is—"

But she stopped his words with her lips. The phenomenon so captivating, producing a delicious tingle as they explored the shape of each other's lips. Blood flowed to other regions of his body as the kiss deepened.

"Molly," he spoke into her lips. "You confound and surprise me in the most enchanting ways."

She smiled in his kiss, "You only lacked the practical experience to understand the expansive possibilities of physical affection."

"Do you surpass me in this knowledge?" he kissed her again and then continued, placing a hand at her knee. "Do not fear an adverse reception, I care not for such restriction on the experiences of women as some of my contemporaries."

She took his hands with hers and clasp them at her knees. "I confess as to kissing that I explored with a school boy in my youth."

"I envy he had your lips first… but did I best him?"

She nodded, teeth scrapping along her lip once again. "By all standards you are superior."

He rubbed her fingers with his, pressing into the knuckles, and she found herself captivated by it for a moment, but she regained her thoughts.

"As to my maidenhood I am..." she murmured as she turned scarlet. 

He interrupted to help her complete the thought. "No matter… but we share in that expertise. A comfort we can explore its possibilities together."

With that he kissed her again, tender but they soon found themselves back in the same heated escalation. 

She dropped the kiss first, sighing breathlessly, "We should be married sooner than later, it appears."

"I agree, though perhaps not for the same reasons."

She looked at him under hooded lids. "I fear that our passions will overtake us if we are not."

"Do you desire to be still of virginal nature when you wed?" he asked.

"We are both scientists, people of reason. There is the consideration of the possibility of children to consider."

He sat back slightly and nodded. "Yes that is true though I understand there are methods of prevention."

She snickered, and he frowned. "What is humorous?"

"It is only that we advanced our comfort in conversation so quickly. It delights me that it is all, Sherlock."

He couldn't explain to himself, but his compulsions remained to explore their physical affections further. But her concerns mattered most.

"Perhaps experimentation is still in order for us," he spoke low as he dropped her hands and leaned in for a kiss, holding a hand on each of her knees, and with her gasp he trailed the kiss down her jaw line playfully nipping at her ear.

"The great science to live happily is to live in the present. Pythagoras said so." he sighed into her neck, her pulse hot under his lips.

She whispered, "He was correct. I would be obliged for a deeper physical experimentation, but I need you to let me know what you desire to do."

"Doctors speak of a treatment for hysteria, I do happen to think it has some merits," Sherlock murmured into her clavicle, his breath tickling her to a shudder again. 

"Those merits being? I have my reservations on the benefit," she said as she bit her lip.

He sat back. "You have a counter argument?"

"NO. No. Though I do not recommend it being a medical treatment, I do recommend it for women by their husbands or by their own hand for pleasure, not because of a mystical affliction."

"Fascinating. Have you had it as a remedy before?"

" I have not. I've had no need." 

"Yes true, you are far from what I could call hysterical. A silly notion medically anyway."

"Agreed."

They paused both looking away from the other. But his curiosity demanded more.

"But by your own hand…?"

She glanced at him and aside to collect her thoughts. "As we are to be husband and wife, there will be no secrets. Yes. I have touched myself by my own hand at night when I could not sleep."

He nodded, "Yes, the chemicals released do aid in slumber."

She looked up at him, "Do you... to…"

He huffed, "Oh yes, one must as a man even if it is vexing at moments. Though I imagine the sensation differs when administered by another hand."

She shrugged her shoulder in thought. "I agree… perhaps?"

He looked at his lap and glanced back up to her. "Do not fear. No one is to call on us, and Mrs Hudson left as soon as you arrived. We are alone." He dropped his lip back to her jaw.

But logic returned her mind, and she lifted his head away from her neck, holding his face in her hands. "Do you promise you do this in true affection and promise of love? Not merely an experiment?"

Sherlock's countenance fell, perceiving now her fear, and he wished nothing more than to calm it.

"My darling Molly, I give my word and vow today, at this moment. I desire no other. I… I love you. Yes. I do, don't I?" he sighed with a smile. "I will marry you and share in all life's pleasures and disappointments with the certainty of your love. I can assure you of mine."

She brought his lips to hers, sealing her vow in response with a kiss. 

With a shuddered breath, she captured his eyes with hers. "Do you require guidance or…"

He shook his head slow with hooded eyes, "I understand the anatomy, and can find my way there. But…" he licked his lips, shifting his hand down to the edge of her skirt, lifting and placing his hand at her ankle, tracing up lightly along the bare skin to the edge of her drawers at the knee. "When I do wish for your critique if needed. I only wish to be a generous student of the art."

She shuddered as his hand slipped over her inner thigh to the edge of the slit of her drawers. His lips found her clavicle once again as he paused.

"Do you wish for me to proceed? He whispered as he trailed his bottom lips along her collar bone over the thin line fabric of her dress and then back up her neck.

"Please darling, please," she whimpered.

The heat of her delighted his fingertips as he parted the slit, teasing at a curl of hair. She shifted in her seat and he asked, "Do you wish to lie down?"

But she shook her head, turning to put her lip at his temple as she sighed, "I fear... I will be unable to stop a more dangerous experimentation if I do."

His lips sought hers and he did not speak another word, running a single fingertip along all her quim, exploring every fold and finding it covered in a liquid when he found the entrance. 

She moaned into his mouth and it only spurred him on more, his thumb exploring now and when she moaned again, assuring he'd found a spot of great pleasure. Low and utterly new, the sound that issued from her. He wanted more.

They kissed more frantically as he rubbed it, finding a hardening. His fingers glided along the opening, becoming more wet with every pressing, as did her breathing.

She pulled just away from him, catching her breath. He searched her face, and she answered low, "You may try your fingers inside me… that… that would be much different from what I have experienced."

"With pleasure, my love," he whispered as he kissed at her jaw, pushing two fingers with care until he heard her whimper. Both his analytical and his emotional mind merged at this moment, seeking small adjustments that produced more sounds from her lips, which he kissed. Each moan muffled by his breath mingling with hers.

He shifted, speaking into her ear with a low voice, "Shall I do both?"

Molly sighed a quiet "yes", the heat in her belly growing instantly upon his slow touch. His thumb finding the optimal point of pleasure she'd found by herself. But it was wholly different, and she relished its effect. 

He varied speeds and watched her breathing. The flush so great in her face he feared her passing out, but he continued the same efforts and soon she bucked, closing her eyes with a throaty gasp. He felt the pressure increased his fingers and her hands pushed on his arm as she trembled. 

His mind flashed to the day before. That tremble, How he wished it never to cease, firing every nerve across his forearm, hair standing on end. Fire in his veins as if by osmosis instead of a needle. What would their wedding night be like? His discomfort in his trousers grew, but it was a welcome distraction as she recovered. 

Her breathing returned to normal, and she stared at him, planting a gentle kiss on his without words as he rubbed his fingers along her drawers to dry them. The glow in her eyes captivating and he couldn't glance away. The desire to keep them lit overwhelmed him.

She shifted her skirts, wiping the sweat beaded at her brow and then his that he'd been unaware of.

"Excellent delicate work, good sir. We'll continue this study at a later time?" she licked her lips. He noted their swollen nature, making even her thinner top one much more enticing. 

"Should we go to the Register's office now?"

She frowned, "Are you quite serious?"

His grin grew, " I fear I require much more knowledge than this cursory experiment. That is best accomplished in the marriage bed, is it not? Oh, the years we have ahead."

She giggled, "But our friends… family, a wedding?"

He paused, pursing his lips, "Is that your desire?" He slipped a finger under her chin, tracing down her pulse. 

"Sherlock Holmes, you are decidedly and wickedly persuasive."

"Shh… what did Pythagoras teach us besides his theories?"

"The great science is…" she paused to kiss his lips," to live happily is…" she sighed as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close.

"To ever live in the present, my Molly. The oldest, shortest words — 'yes' and 'no' — are those which require the most thought." Sherlock said with conviction, stroking along her spine. "To the Register?"

She smiled wide, "Yes. For you, it's always yes." 

**Author's Note:**

> prompt on discord from Miz. TAB relationship negotiations.
> 
> Beta thanks to Mouse9


End file.
